Right On The Way
by IAmTheHero
Summary: They've both stayed late to work on the Fischer job . Arthur gives Ariadne a ride home. A series of short stories about how they come into their feelings for each other. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not, in fact, own Inception. That's all Nolan.**

**And in my first story "As Soon As Its Over" I mentioned that Arthur had regularly given Ariadne rides home while working late nights on the Fischer job. The first night was covered in that story (I hope you read it ). So I thought it would be fun – or something to do at least – to write a series of stories about the rides home and how they got to know each other. Enjoy – and please please pretty please read and review. Thanks much!**

The warehouse was dark. The lights had been turned off. The building was empty - for the most part. A lone man sat at a metal desk, bright light from the screen in front of him illuminating his angled face. On quite the opposite side of the warehouse stood a petite architect; measuring and taping and tearing down paper models.

Arthur looked at his watch – it was much later than he had suspected. Closing his laptop on the page of Peter Browning he had been looking at, Arthur stood from his desk, grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and packed up his research from the day. It was time to go home – or back to his leased apartment anyway. Not necessarily a home, but a place to go to at the end of the day and lay down for a few hours.

As he walked toward the door he allowed his hopes to rise a bit. Maybe she would still be here. Maybe he would look around the concrete pillar and find her hunched over her desk, same as always, building skyscrapers and adjusting roads. This fleeting moment of hope was the best part of his night. And on the nights he did find her there, well, those easily ranked in his greatest moments of the job.

He reached the door and, casually as he could, looked over to Ariadne's work space. A light was still on and he couldn't suppress a small smile. She was here. Working – at two thirty in the morning none the less. If he had been responsible – less selfish – he would have insisted she stopped these late nights and focused a little more on her school work. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it was a little selfish of him, but he just refused to let go of their nights together.

Still fighting a smile, Arthur strolled across the room, toward the girl now twirling a ruler between her fingers. As he approached, his footsteps made minute "clicks" on the cement floor and Ariadne turned around, already knowing who she would meet. And she, too, suppressed a smile.

"Care for a lift, miss?" Arthur inclined his head, a slightly silly smile on his lips and a joking twinkle in his eye. Ariadne let out an exhausted laugh and set her ruler down.

"If it's no trouble," she said, as she always did.

And, as always, Arthur responded, "You're right on the way."

OOOooooOOOoooOO

"It was just so humiliating, Arthur, right there in front of everyone," sighed Ariadne, exasperated and upset but too tired to get very worked up, "I mean, I know I haven't been at this as long as everyone else, but I do know architecture."

Arthur let out a slow breath. Careful to keep his driving steady and eyes forward. "I'm sorry Ariadne," he finally responded, "I know you know what you are doing when it comes to the real world, but you have to understand that dreaming is like being in a whole different world. The same rules don't always apply."

"I understand that and I'm learning – but was it really necessary to call me out like that at the meeting? In front of Saito and everyone? What if he decides I'm not right for the job after he sees all these glaring mistakes I have made?"

Arthur glanced at Ariadne from behind the wheel. She was sitting pin straight, her back barely touching the leather seat. Staring straight ahead, headlights of passing cars flashing across her troubled face. She looked so small and his chest tightened at the sight of her.

His voice came softer now, "Listen to me: There is no doubt in anybody's mind that you are the architect for the job. Cobb himself said he has never seen anyone catch on so fast."

"Well apparently not fast enough," spat Ariadne, still staring rigidly out the window, "if you feel the need to tear out an entire section of a city I spent two weeks building, I mean, I…"

"It was an unnecessary chunk," Arthur interrupts, "You already had more than enough city to keep us and Fischer's projections twisting and turning for a week. You don't want to have too much wasted space in a dream - it will drain the dreamer."

Ariadne let out a sharp sigh, turned to look at Arthurs profile, "And you couldn't have told me that in private?"

"I'm sorry. I should have," Arthur dared a second look at her out of the corner of his eye, "I wish I had."

She was looking at him and caught his eye as he snuck a peek; He was sorry. She could see it in his brown eyes. She wanted to say something, a word of forgiveness or reconciliation. But her voice caught in her throat as he held her gaze. Her face cradled in his tender chocolate eyes. A warm moment passed before he had to turn has attention back to the road. But Ariadne could not be drawn away so easily. It was several moments before she had sense enough to look anywhere else and several more moments before she had breath enough to say, "I'm sorry, too Arthur."

"Sorry?" his eyebrows raised, voice softer than ever, "sorry for what?"

"I'm just tired," said Ariadne, "I know you were trying to help – "

"But I should have handled it differently – "

"It's alright," she said, and her hand moved instinctively for his, but she stopped herself midway, "really…I've had worse, actually."

Arthur turned to her again, "What do you mean?"

Ariadne immediately regretted saying anything. She had just been trying to lighten the situation – make him stop feeling bad for his slip. She supposed she would have to explain. _Oh joy._

"I've just - I've worked with some guys who haven't been very…gratuitous. In school, mostly, I mean, this is my first real job as an architect. But," she looked to Arthur, who had been keeping one eye on her, one on the road, "I have to say you – I mean, all you guys – have been the best. Never tried to undermine me in any given situation. You've all been respectful and helpful with the work we've been doing…It's just been nice. I can't really complain for one embarrassing moment."

As she spoke, the car had pulled up beside her apartment complex and Arthur had shifted into park. He turned his body completely to face Ariadne. She blushed in the darkness as she felt him staring intently at her.

"I guess I'm just apologizing for losing my temper with you just now," she finished hurriedly, not looking at him anymore, eager to get out of the car. Her breathes were coming up short and she couldn't figure out why.

"It's alright," she heard him breathe deeply, "and I promise if I ever want to talk to you, I will find a time to do it in private."

The space in the car was suddenly feeling quite small. The air was not tight or suffocating, but both were having difficulty drawing normal breaths.

Finally, Ariadne spoke, "that sounds good," she turned to look out her window, toward her apartment. "I should get going – I mean, it's pretty late…"

"Yeah," Arthur pounced on her words, "yeah, you should."

Ariadne opened the door and began to climb out but something warm snaked around her wrist. She turned to look and found Arthur holding her hand, looking up at her.

"Ariadne," he spoke, "Listen, if you ever need anything – have a question, or need to talk, just, about anything – feel free to come to me, ok?"

She stared at his face – so sincere, so kind, so _handsome. _She felt a warmness in her belly and another that flooded her face. He was reaching out to her. Trying to help her. For the good of the mission, she was sure, but still. He cared. And he was holding her hand.

Ariadne nodded, "alright."

The corners of Arthur's mouth turned up slightly as he nodded and dropped her hand, "Goodnight Ariadne."

"Goodnight Arthur," Ariadne smiled at him, looking up as she grabbed her bag from the floor of the car. She held his eyes and his smile for a precious moment or two – it wasn't often that he smiled. Finally, she broke their contact, shut the door and made her way back to her apartment. A grin still playing on her lips.

And as Arthur drove away, his mind was not mulling over information on Peter Browning or Robert Fischer, but was flooded with images of smiling Ariande – smiling at him. And as he thought, a small smile crept onto his face as well.

**Hoop there it is. As I have begged before: please review. I need comments – I don't care if they are compliments or criticisms. Let me know if I should keep going with these car rides. I am still not used to writing fan fiction and it is very important to me that the characters are believable as, well, themselves. Also, I'm not sure about the balance of this piece, cuz I kind of wrote it in bits and pieces – not all in one go – so I don't know what I was thinking when I started it. So please be kind and review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heads up: This one is kind of angst-y when Ariadne talks about her brothers. I promise there won't be a lot of stories like this in this series – angst really isn't my thing, but that's just how this one turned out. And I tried to end it on a not-so-down note. Please read and REVIEW!**

He was closing up the warehouse for the night. Switching off the individual lights left on by the other team members. Packing up his brief case. On his way to the door, he made his usual detour by her work station – hoping this night would be one of _the_ nights. One of the precious nights when he could drive their young architect home after a long day. One of the nights he longed for all week.

As he approached he managed to glance past all of her easels and poster boards of designs and he saw a petite figure hunched over a small table. Illuminated in the light from her lone lamp, she looked like a whole different person – softer. Angelic, even. His breath hitched for a second as she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. He allowed himself to grin back, "would you care for a lift home?" he asked her.

"If it's no trouble," she replied.

He shook his head and said, as always, "you're right on the way."

OOOoooooOOoo

"You're lucky, you know," Arthur said, as Ariadne reclined comfortably in the passenger seat, window rolled down. When he spoke, she smiled to herself; tonight, Arthur wanted to talk.

Opening her eyes, she looked at him, "How so?"

"You had siblings growing up," he said. Ariadne scoffed at this, unwilling to believe that her childhood was a stroke of luck, "No, really," he persisted, looking at her from the corner of his eye as he drove, "I just had one older sister – so much older she wasn't really around while I was school-aged and could have used an older sibling around. You know, to take some of the heat off me."

"What do you mean – what heat?"

Arthur quirked his head casually, "you know, just from my parents. Pressure to achieve highly in school, make all the teams, win all the awards – and I sort of thought if Liz had been around then maybe they wouldn't have cared so much. But she was all grown and on her own by the time it was my turn for all that shit. So all my parent's energy went into grooming me into their model son."

Ariadne is silent for a moment, biting her lip, processing. "Arthur," she begins slowly, "I had no idea. I mean, no one ever talks about their personal lives on the job. That – that must have been really difficult for you as a kid. Having hardly any choice in your own actions, it's amazing who you've grown into."

"Well, I did have some choice, I mean, I was given pick of debate team or chess team, since they both ran in the same season and I was already on the basketball team," he smiled breezily, thinking Ariadne was taking this too seriously, "but it's all in the past. Athletics never really stuck – if you hadn't noticed, my physique isn't exactly that of an Olympian. And debate has come in handy, I suppose."

"Well alright," Ariadne sighed, "If you don't think it's a big deal anymore…"

Arthur smirked, "I don't, really. Its fine."

Ariadne was sitting back in the leather seat once again, this time staring comfortably at the man in the seat next to her. Smiling. She loved gathering bits and pieces of him. Learning snippets of who he is and what he does gave her a thrill. He was an interesting man and she was genuinely amazed each time she discovered something new. Tonight, however, he had told her more than she had ever been told in all of their broken conversations during day hours.

They sat in silence for a while. Just cool wind traipsing in through the window. Streetlamps and headlights the only way they could make out each other's figures in the dark car.

"So what about you?" asked Arthur after several beats of quiet, "So far I know you have two older brothers – but what was that like?"

"Uhm, well," Ariadne thought about her childhood, trying to come up with the most accurate way to describe it without getting too carried away, "it was just normal, I guess. I have two older brothers; one is three years older and the other is ten months older. Noah and Benjamin." She looked to him, questioning how much detail he was looking to get out of her. He caught her looking and quirked an eyebrow, which she took as a signal to continue. She sighed, "Well, I hate to shatter your illusion that life with brothers would be, well, great fun. But my experience growing up with them wasn't so pleasant."

She took a breath and then said in rush: "I mean there are only so many times a nine year old girl can have her hair burned and yanked out before she just cuts it all off herself. And there are only so many nights a five year old can wake up to a floating Chuckie doll before she stops sleeping altogether. And, I mean, after a while a girls dates will just stop showing up because word has gotten round her high school that Ariadne's family are freaks and her brothers answer the door with wooden bats and tell the boys how their sister is a lunatic with attachment issues – but maybe the reason I have attachment issues is because I have been treated with blunt cruelty all my life by the two people who should have been looking after me because I'm their sister!"

They had stopped in front of her apartment long ago. But Ariadne had not noticed. Fuming at first, she glanced at Arthur, who was looking at her with an odd sort of intensity, and it dawned on her how much she had let slip. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was get out of the car and far away from the man whose eyes were boring into her after her little episode. She was humiliated. No one was supposed to know that part of her. She turned away from him and reached for the door handle, ready to murmur a quick "thanks for the ride" and bolt. Never to face him again.

That was her plan, until Arthur spoke up just as her hand felt the cool metal of the door handle. Softly, he asked, "It was really as bad as all that?"

Still refusing to turn around again, Ariadne nodded, biting her lip.

"I'm sorry. That's horrible," he said, gently still, "Your brothers should have been there for you. Taken care of you – or at least not torment you."

"Yeah," whispered Ariadne from over her shoulder, "I wish I could treat it all like it's in the past – over and done with – like you do about your childhood. But I just cant. They…affected me for life."

"I understand," Arthur said, "how are things between you and them now?"

"We're…well, we're alright. I mean, they grew up eventually – sort of. Noah is married, but no children – I'm not really looking forward to the day he does reproduce. Benjamin goes to Notre Dame. We're on alright terms. The boys are still close, except they leave me alone, thank God."

"And your parents?" prompted Arthur.

"My parents are fine. They're just…parents. They always insisted that Noah and Ben were just being boys and I shouldn't take their teasing so personally. A few times they did punish the boys for something they did, but never seriously. I don't think they knew how bad it was. I still can't sleep through the night…"

A warmth sparked on her back and she jumped a bit, turning to see what had caused it. It was Arthur. His hand was now gently rubbing her back. Ariadne froze, unsure of what to do, but relishing the moment. His hand felt so good moving in small circles, sending shivers down her spine. Mostly because it was _his_ hand, she thought. He was touching her and not through a hand shake or a gentle brushing of fingers as she passed him a paper. He was really touching her and the heat from his hand seemed to spread to every crevice of her still body.

She could have gotten out of the car, carried on with her original plan and scurried away in a flushed embarrassment. But her body acted without consulting her mind, and in an instant she had turned around and fallen forward into his chest. His arms wrapped around her as if he had been expecting this as she let out a sob stifled by his shoulder.

_This is silly,_ Ariadne told herself as she discreetly tried to brush away tears from her cheeks as she rested against his lapel. Arthur kept his hand on her shoulder as she slowly pulled away. Looked concernedly into her face and she turned away.

"I'm sorry about that," she said quickly, "I am usually ok with it. Just too much talking, I guess." And she reached for the door handle again.

"It's ok," he said, causing her to freeze in place again, "I don't like to see you hurting, you know. If talking about something upsets you, just say the word and we can stop. I do like getting to know you though."

Ariadne glanced around once more to look at him. His smooth face, small brown eyes, expressing nothing but warmth. And his smile. Always more of a smirk, really, but still friendly and comforting. Ariadne couldn't help but give a small smile back.

"Thank you, Arthur," she sniffed.

"Anytime."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

**Ok, as I said, angst isn't my style, but I think it had to come up at least once, in this series as they get to know each other.** **I promise they will mostly be happy, borderline fluffy (But I still want them to be believable).**

**And I LOVE it when you subscribe, and reviews just shoot me over the moon **


	3. Chapter 3

Tonight they drove in silence.

The breeze blowing in from the open window waved her hair gently around her face. Normally he would have looked away, only sneaking peeks when he felt daring, but tonight was different. He felt more comfortable than he was when they were together in the warehouse. Driving with her, deep in conversation or in silence, he felt peaceful. Happy. It had been a long time since he had truly felt at peace. Since he and Cobb had signed on for this Godforsaken inception. Being with her had a calming affect on him. He could feel the tension in his shoulders ease and the few lines in his forehead smooth. Normally he would have been shy looking at her, stealing glances from across the warehouse, but right now he didn't hesitate to trace with his eyes every delicate inch and angle of her face. It really was a lovely face – stunningly beautiful, actually. Deep, chocolate brown eyes fringed with long dark lashes. Full, rose-red lips blooming atop porcelain skin. And her hair…

Damn, he shouldn't be thinking thoughts like this. She's a coworker, he reminded his subconscious. He had to be careful – one thought, oneimpulsive action – could potentially jeopardize the entire operation. He couldn't have any out of the ordinary thoughts consuming too much of his mind before the job. They could find a way of creeping into the dream. It would be very difficult to convince Fischer that he is dreaming when sexy young architects are strutting around hotels in lingerie.

He would have to repress his feelings. At least for now. Until they were out of danger. After the inception, they would talk. They would be together. If she would have him.

OoOOOoooooOOOOoooooo

She didn't mind the quiet.

Tonight, it gave her the chance to just sit and enjoy his presence. Of course he was always present in the warehouse. But they were always working. Separately. Twenty feet apart to be precise. She had counted one day as she walked over to ask him a question about a layout. From that distance she couldn't breathe in his cologne. She couldn't trace the curve of his jaw. She couldn't feel his warmth.

Now, less than six inches from her, she could take it all in. His smell, his features, his everything. After weeks of working around him, of learning his tendencies, his likes his dislikes. Weeks of getting to know the real him, she realized she adored him.

It wasn't anything sudden. It was a growing fondness. It had sparked the first time she had seen him. Standing alone in the warehouse wearing a classic three piece suit, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Hard at work. He was a tall, lean man (though she knew under his linen shirts swelled slender, impressive tone and muscle). The moment he came skidding to her side after she had been stabbed in the stomach, seeing the urgent but calm glint in his brown eyes, hearing his soothing voice so close to her ear – that's what had done it. That day had begun to send her emotions down this heart-quenching spiral. She knew there was no stopping it.

But there was nothing she could do for it either. They were still coworkers, working together on one of the most dangerous jobs any one could ever undertake. There were risks that had to be taken in this line of work, but this risk would be an unnecessary one. She knew if they began an intimate relationship at this point, not only could it be hazardous to the mission while they were under - should their projections start behaving oddly. But afterwards, when it was all over and they got off the plane, it was already understood that there should be no contact for six weeks between any of the colleagues. She didn't know if she could begin to allow herself to love him and then have to be torn from him for forty-two days.

No, she would have to wait. She would have to endure him. His presence, and then when he is gone, she would endure.

But after it all - she allowed herself to hope. After the inception, after the no contact period. After all the danger is out of the way, they could be together. If he would have her.


End file.
